


The Sweetest Little Song

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Director Johnson, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Inhumans (Marvel), Insecurity, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Male-Female Friendship, Marriage Proposal, Moving On, Quake as an Avenger, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sex, Sexual Humor, Sokovia Accords, Soulmates, Supportive Relationships, Wall Sex, thejcexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9227765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: Written for #TheJCExchange prompt: Leonard Cohen, The Sweetest Little Song (You go your way / I’ll go your way too).  The chapter titles are lyrics from the song.





	1. + I crossed a line 5 yrs in the making

He thinks about moving on.

When he talked about putting the past behind him, he wasn't entirely sure what he meant. Truth be told.

It sounded good at the time.

He'd held on to some things so tightly.

And then he had to learn to let go.

That old saying, "If you love something, set it free."

She came back.

All that time he had spent looking for her, with her just out of reach.

In the end, it turned out to be a blessing, if you can be blessed.

"That looks serious."

She's leaning over him, at his spot monitoring the Watchdog activity on the ground below.

He regains his focus and looks at the monitor.

"What?"

"That," she says with a curve of her lips, finger pointing at his face.

"Not much gets by you, does it?" he confesses, feeling himself start to smile.

"Some things you just can't unlearn," she teases, easing back against the station, and crossing her arms. " _Agent_."

There are still things he's never told her. Probably for the best.

Even now, he has a moment of insecurity, wondering what she sees when she looks at him.

Before, he still believed he had things to offer her. Now, this is all he is.

"Not even an A.C.?" he says, trying to shake this feeling, make light of it. "I'm hurt."

"How about _Phil_?" she asks, intonation all weighed on his name. "It's been, what? Four years?"

"Just about. I guess you've earned it," he replies, a little flirtier than he'd intended.

Or maybe he meant to.

"Oh. Is that all?" she huffs, smiling at him, as he stands up and pretends to stretch the stiffness out.

"I did want you to be Director, Daisy."

She looks like she believes it a little more when he says it this time. Good. He'll keep saying it, then.

"You know me...sharp, attractive, head of a big, shady organization?" He's quoting her own words back to her.

Her eyes widen a little and she gets very still. Almost like he knocked the wind out of her.

He thinks about joking it all away, when she takes a careful step closer to him.

"I'm not shady," she says, in a low, commanding voice.

"No, you're not."

He thinks he's figured out what moving on means.


	2. + I wanna feel you erupt

This is like the thing that happens in the movies.

But in real life, someone ends up in jail, or made an example of?

She doesn't want to believe that this will end well for them is the point.

Still, he's kind of winning out over that voice in her head right now.

" _Unf_."

It's a tiny little noise, because she's biting on her lower lip, trying to hold it all in.

"C'mon, Daisy. I want to feel you lose it."

His voice, the way he says her name. She pushes up on her toes, pressing her back higher against the door, which he uses to his advantage to put one of her legs across his shoulder.

They're not supposed to be doing this.

Doing it on the base is certainly a risk. However, he knows all the little secret nooks and crannies that it holds.

Which is a great metaphor right now.

His knees must hurt though, with nothing but that concrete floor under them. He's acting like he doesn't care.

"Do you think they'll throw you in the Raft?" she groans out, and runs her nails along his scalp, then he does something with his tongue that makes a zing run right up her spine.

"Aaah!"

"That's more like it," he says with a smirk.

His stupid, sexy, lopsided smirk that she's known for years is going down on her right now.

"But what about your pending imprisonment?" she asks. Because they are violating SHIELD rules, sure, but also the Accords.

And she can't stop talking. She's never talked so much while-

"Don't care?" he tosses back, and squeezes his fingers along her thigh, then his hand reappears between their bodies, and she watches him brush his thumb right over her clit.

She presses even harder back against the door, squirming. Sensitive.

"If they get you, I'll bust you out, okay?" she promises, rapid-fire.

"Okay," he chuckles, then gently pushes a finger into her. "You'd have to be really loud to be heard outside a bunker, Daisy."

"B-but I'm not a loud-" she moans loudly, as he starts to slide his hand back and forth, and then curl it right on that spot.

Kind of like the way he found the switch to this bunker, earlier. He is _so good_ with his hands.

"C'mon, Daisy. Talk to me."

It makes sense, really. Despite the fact that they've just started exploring this new level of intimacy, that she trusts him, a part of her has still been holding back.

"Do it harder," she says, a little unsure at first. " _More_." Until he does just what she asks, and it sends another zing right up her spine.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes. _So good!_ " she cries, thinking about her face scrunching up, no, the fact that she's about to orgasm in violation of the Sokovia Accords.

Oh wow, that's hot.

She almost loses control of her powers right then, can feel her body tighten around his fingers, as he massages her slowly, bringing her back down from her high.

"You're so good with your hands," she sighs, and gives him an appreciative pat on the head.

"Mmm," he says, finally sitting back, sounding rather satisfied with himself.

"Murder on my knees, though."

She starts to laugh.

 


	3. + I don't want you to think that its all that i'm

He's not a jealous person.

He's not a jealous person.

"I'm not a jealous person," he tells her aloud. "I just want to be where you are."

"I didn't say you were. And, sometimes that's not possible," she says back over the coms.

"Fury said I was an Avenger," he sighs. "I'm like that fourth tier Avenger that only gets called when all the other Avengers have been captured?"

"Is this the plot from an actual comic book?" she asks. "Because, it sounds like-"

"Yes," he confesses. He read it when he was 6. But enough about him. "Is anyone giving you a hard time?"

"Just Thor, and his arms," she teases.

He's not a jealous person.

"He needs them for that huge hammer he lugs around," he says, unwrapping a piece of chocolate he's kept nearby at the monitoring station.

"You sound tense," she tells him. "Why are you up so late, anyway? And what are you eating?"

"I offered to stay on coms," he says, mouth now half-full. "Chocolate."

He licks the sugar off his fingers and leans back in the chair. She's been gone for two weeks already. Hanging out with other people with powers. Cool people, like her.

Something he can't ever give her. Of course she's excited.

He just wants to see them admire her, really. The way he does.

He's not a jealous person.

"You knew that I would be up late, huh?" she asks, after his contemplative pause.

"Yeah," he answers, trying to picture her in his mind. "I miss the sound of your voice."

"I miss waking up to you. And you being grumpy and trying to get me to stay in bed."

"You should try it sometime. It's nice. I'm there."

"It is nice."

Her voice is full of smile. He loves being that to her.

They've only talked off-and-on. And he shouldn't feel insecure at his age, but he does.

T'Challa is a king and they probably spent hours talking about vibranium and poachers and human rights, with that smooth accent.

He knows she'll think that's charming. Hell, he thinks it's charming.

He's not a jealous person.

"There's so much I want to tell you about," she says, interrupting his thoughts. "Being able to turn around and have your take on things is something I take for granted, maybe."

"You can make it up to me when you get home."

"Sorry I haven't called in sooner, we've been out of range."

"Like, how far out of range?" he asks, trying not to worry.

"Um...another planet?" she finally replies, in an apologetic voice.

"Since when?" he asks, sitting up in his seat. " _Daisy_..."

He's not a jealous person.

"I'm so jealous," he whines.


	4. +And the rest of your life

Rushing into things has been a feature of her personal life, not so much her professional one.

Wow, that feels so serious, having a professional life.

A personal life, though? That seemed impossible.

Everything about this has been slow.

And Phil has been so patient. She can feel it, though. His quiet wondering.

Part of it is the timing on her part?

Now that the Sokovia Accords have been dismantled, and she's Director of SHIELD, she can spend a little more time out of the field.

Not that she's still not having very late nights.

She's got so much to worry about now. Worry _for_ now.

But not this, she thinks, sliding her hand over Phil's bare arm, just wanting some connection before she slips into bed.

Sure, she could've survived without this. She's good at surviving.

This is better that just surviving. Her lover, but also her best friend and her sounding-board.

She realized for the first time, when she was off-world, that this was a commitment. Their home.

They had never agreed to that, never said what this is, but they have always had a kind of unspoken agreement since they met.

"Hey," she says, leaning over to kiss his neck.

"Mmm." He's starting to stir, sleepy-slow. "Is everything okay?" he rasps. "What time is it?"

"I just thought about something." She sits back, giving him room to turn over towards her.

"Okay," he says, reaching up to brush his hand against her hair and her face in a welcoming caress.

The way he always looks her in the eye. It makes her feel so connected. And loved. A warmth starts to spread through her chest.

Nerves? Or is it something else?

"I want to marry you."

He grins almost immediately, and starts to sit up in bed.

"Sure," he says quickly, excitedly. "Definitely. _Daisy_." Like he's all out of breath. "When did you-"

"Now. It's something that I thought about when I was away, but, now."

She looks down at his hand, and takes it in her own.

"I'm sorry I don't have a ring? Or a surprise. Something like that? You probably would've liked-"

"No," he says, pulling her towards him and kissing her while he smiles. "This is what I want."

"I can get down on one knee," she grins, totally taken with his enthusiasm.

"I have a better idea," he says quickly, pulling her by the lapel of her jacket and slipping it down her arm.

She starts to work the buttons of her shirt open, quickly, helping, as he pulls his t-shirt off over his head one-handed, then helps her out of her bra.

Then her suit is in a pile on the floor, and he's dragging her back to bed, kissing her, wide awake now, things almost moving too fast, like a happy, buzzing blur.

She doesn't want to slow this down, linking her fingers with his right hand as she takes him inside of her, all at once, throws her head back with a groan, and then starts to move against him, while he thrusts his hips up into her, like they're racing each other to the finish line.

"Ask me again," he says, squeezing her fingers between his.

The buzz starts to build, low in her belly where their bodies connect, and the damp heat of them pressed together starts to linger on her skin. He never lets his eyes off of hers, and she releases his hand and attacks his mouth, kissing him the same way they're fucking, until he's groaning and wanting more of everything.

"Phil Coulson," she starts, fixing her teeth on his bottom lip for a second. "Will you marry me?"

He sweeps her legs up from under her, and gets between them, greedy, angling his hips until he's hitting the right spot, making her toes curl while he presses one thumb into the soft skin behind her knees, and balances her other against the joint of his left arm.

His back is slick with sweat and he gets one more hungry kiss in before he says, "Yes."

He waits so they can both come, falling together, tangled in a pile of sweaty limbs, and rushed breaths, and heartbeats.

"I do," he laughs into her hair.

The excitement is still in his voice, like there is magic in the air.

"That's a great proposal," she says, when he snuggles against her.  

"Not exactly shareable." He starts a happy, contented laugh. "But great."

She's seen magic before.

This is better.


End file.
